Vindication
by SaturnineRouge
Summary: When Blair strikes up a relationship with the unlikeliest of people, no one is more surprised than Chuck. Now that Chuck is single and back to his old ways, to what lengths will he go to win her back? A collab between SaturnineSunshine & comewhatmay.x
1. Prologue

**PROLOGUE

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**Gossip Girl here, your one and only source into the scandalous lives of Manhattan's elite.**

The Upper East Side is abuzz with news over the newly crowned Queen **B** of Columbia. Word on the street is, the former reigning Queen was found sobbing in front of the school. **B**, of course, was watching from afar as the girl's bags were packed up into a shiny black limo. Where was that limo headed? If my suspicions are correct, our lovely **B **sent her packing back to Boston. Oh **B**, bringing conniving back to college. Speaking of conniving, **B**'s usual partner in crime, **C**, was nowhere to be found in the wreckage that was a result of **B**'s scheme. Could it be that **C **& **B **are over for good? It breaks my gossip-mongering heart to see these two apart. It's been five months since **C **bid adieu à sa petite pute. Au revoir **E**! Nous ne vous manquez hoped that once **C **sent her back to France this twisted ménage à trois would come to an end and he and **B **would be back to scheming and playing games in no time. **C**'s moral compass may be gone, but this threesome looks more like a onesome. Then again, if history repeats itself, we can expect these two back together in no time. Anyone care to bet? I'm putting my money on two months, max. These two could never stay apart for long.

As for our very own golden couple, **S **& **N**? The two have been flirting with each other all over the Columbia campus. Has **N **recently had a change of heart, or has anyone spotted those blonde (or redhead or brunette) co-eds sneaking out of his apartment at the crack of dawn lately? Seems to me, our golden boy got tired of playing **C 2.0**. Oh **N**, you know I'll always love you just the way you are-innocent, gullible, and completely oblivious. As for **S**? Did anyone else wonder how she managed to weasel her way into Columbia's spring semester? I've heard the Dean of Admissions has got a thing for blondes. And **S** has a thing for older guys-or have you not heard about her affair with the married congressman? Better watch your back **S**,I hear trophy wives can be vicious when provoked.

In other news, the prestigious Alumni weekend is happening in the hallowed halls of Columbia University as we speak. This, of course, culminates in the annual black-tie Alumni dinner on Sunday night, in which Columbia alumni and students mingle, build business relationships, and destroy hear **C **will be attending as a 'prominent business mogul'. What will business major **B **think of this? And will yours truly be in attendance? But of course! Whether I'll be a plus one or a student? You'll never know.

**Spotted: **Roommates **B **and **S **walking across the quad, arm in arm, eye candy for boycandy as far as the eye can see. **N** and **S** have also been spotted together recently. Coffee study dates anyone? It seems **N**'s best friend **C **is too busy being CEO of Bass Industries. He's been spotted everywhere-at board meetings, construction sites, and even boarding his jet to Chicago for a conference-sans brainless bimbos. Could he be trying to win back **B**'s affections? Sounds to me like he's been too busy buying up properties under the Bass Industries name to be wooing **B**. I for one, am glad **Mrs. vdW **has handed over the company back to him.

And who am I? That's one secret I'll never tell.  
You know you love me. XOXO,  
Gossip Girl

**Translations**  
It's been two months since **C **bid adieu à sa petite pute. = _It's been two months since __**C**__ bid farewell to his little whore._

Au revoir **E**! Nous ne vous manquez pas. =_ Goodbye __**E**__! We don't miss you._

ménage à trois=_threesome_


	2. Columbia

**AN: Welcome to the first collaboration between SaturnineSunshine and comewhatmay.x! Thanks for the reviews for the prologue and we hope you enjoy the first chapter:)

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It was hot. Too hot. If there was one thing that Blair wasn't expecting while walking into the alumni dinner as the newly reigning Queen, it was the sweltering heat. Spring had barely begun and she was suddenly relieved about the revealing cut of her dress, no matter how many pairs of eyes belonging to aged alumni followed her with interest. It was enough to distract her from noticing that a certain business mogul was gracing the hall with his self-absorbed presence. The problem with that was, she was the distraction.

"Miss Waldorf, if I'm not mistaken?"

Blair felt the society mask that she had perfected since birth fall firmly into place as she turned to face the speaker. He wasn't young. At all. She didn't know what she had been expecting, but at least he didn't seem to be on Medicare. That much she could tell.

Her fake smile seemed to be genuine enough to him as he offered his hand in a cordial greeting. It was stifling enough to listen to his ramblings while attempting to find her niche in the newest social dynasty. It was hard enough to pretend to pay attention while sweat trickled down the nape of her exposed neck.

Until it got a hell of a lot harder.

She knew it couldn't just be the heat this time. There seemed to be a tremor in the air and Blair found her body instinctively pivoting a fraction of an inch, without any self-control, as she listened to a dull conversation about the crumbling economy. Blair really couldn't care less, but she was a business major after all. And so she nodded appreciatively at the man's prattle while her thoughts wandered elsewhere.

White Bucks clicked on the floor and Blair wanted to wrinkle her nose, knowing that Chuck Bass loved that his most fashionable shoe rhymed with his newly reinstated nickname, as of five months ago.

His eyes hadn't reached her yet but she was suddenly very aware of how wet her hairline was and how her perfectly tailored dress stuck to her ribs. Blair brought her hand to her the nape of her neck, feeling a bead of sweat slide down to her collarbone.

At the front of the room, Chuck Bass let his eyes wander the room appreciatively as he sauntered with all of the self-awareness that was in his being. As though his sixth sense had immediately kicked in, his slanting dark eyes flicked to her high updo and exposed neck, before a slow smirk drifted lazily across his face. Blair stiffened, and she began to think that leaving her phone in her jacket, which had seemed completely irrelevant at the time, was a terrible idea. There was no way Gossip Girl could have missed this. But Blair Waldorf was caught completely unprepared as Chuck Bass looked at her-and her sleek attire-in the most inappropriate manner. She had been prepared for his arrival, armed with a dozen or so comments, but his sudden presence threw her completely off guard.

"...and the drop in the prices of real estate, as of late, has certainly caught the eye of more than a few real estate developers. One in particular, Bass Industries, seems to be buying up most of Manhattan's skyline. Of course, Cooper Enterprises seems to be challenging Bass' stake in the market. Bass is failing to maintain its monopoly on the New York market, and its stock is quite crippled as of late. It must be due to the inexperience of their young CEO, Charles Bass. We were certainly impressed with his management of the company, but he's still quite foolhardy. Around your age, if I am correct?" The man scrutinized Blair carefully as her smile slipped ever so slightly. She nodded her affirmation once more.

"In fact," the man continued, catching sight of someone. "Isn't that Chuck Bass over there?"

Blair tore her eyes from Chuck's alluring ones, eyes that always seemed to ensnare her and make her forget where she was. Belatedly, Blair realized that she was still taking part in an extremely dull conversation. Chuck's smirk broadened and she knew that his tendency for lurking had grown into a fully blown talent because he had heard every word.

Blair sighed as his approach. "The one and only," she replied dourly. She refused to turn as a natural musk she had been intimately familiar with since the age of 16 became more prominent.

"Chuck Bass."

Blair let herself cast a sidelong glance at Chuck's extended hand as he introduced himself to her rambling companion. Of course, as was with everything that was a game, it was just a facade. Chuck was always aware when someone was speaking about him.

Especially her.

Once the introductions were settled, Blair stared stubbornly and pointedly at the other side of the room, refusing to be a part of the conversation any longer. The stranger in front of Blair coughed at her refusal to acknowledge the man beside her.

"Blair."

Blair exhaled heavily and finally turned to face him, her sickeningly sweet smile back in place as she reciprocated his greeting.

"Chuck."

Whatever amused him so, the feeling was not mutual. She could tell by the way his own eyes refused to meet hers that he had been taking in the status of her wardrobe.

"Is that what they're wearing on the runways these days?" he leered. "I thought you were getting it tailored at the very least."

She really would have relished the feeling of the side of his face hitting her palm with a satisfying smack but then again, they were in a public forum. One that meant too much to her.

"I'm not sure what you're trying to insinuate," Blair articulated, ignoring the very evident observer of their conversation. It just gave Chuck another opportunity and excuse to rake her form with eyes.

"Is your mother aware that you walk out of the house like that?" Chuck asked, and Blair realized that his judgment wasn't due to his opinion of fashion as a familiar flicker of heat flashed through his eyes.

"Considering it's her design," Blair said, "I would daresay that she does."

He was still looking south of her face. Subtle.

"Is there a problem?" she pressed.

"I just thought that Eleanor was more..." Chuck drawled, "traditional."

"It's 90 degrees out, Chuck," Blair said but his reaction pleased her. It was the way he couldn't take his eyes off of her that convinced her. Provocative dress wasn't a cornerstone of the Blair Waldorf experience. And it seemed he liked it better that way.

"I wasn't aware that you two were acquainted."

Twin sets of dark eyes went back to attention of the aging man before them, as if they had forgotten he was there. The interruption of their conversation was more of a hint. They had forgotten that they weren't alone. Again.

"Unfortunately," Blair couldn't help but slip in.

"Blair and I have known each other since preschool," Chuck said with false camaraderie, flashing a winning smile at Blair, who scowled in return. "In fact, in high school-"

"We're more of acquaintances, really." Blair said through gritted teeth.

"Blair and I have always shared mutual interests," Chuck said in agreement. "Our mutual love for limos, for one-"

"And of course, our mutual interest in the business world." Blair said loudly, hoping to drown out Chuck's words.

"Oh yes!" The man jumped in quickly, eager to join in on the conversation once again. "Miss Waldorf and I were just discussing your company Mr. Bass. Now, if I may make a few suggestions about your handling of the L.A. crisis..."

The man turned to Chuck eagerly as Blair excused herself with a smile, leaving the mismatched pair behind. Chuck glowered after her, but she threw him an innocent smile, waltzing away just with enough impeccable timing to be apprehended by none other than her newly acquired roommate.

"Serena," Blair said tersely, the effects of Chuck Bass still assaulting her senses, much like his very noticeable cologne.

"Who was that you were talking to?" Serena asked with that innocent Virgin Mary act that Blair found cumbersome.

"Don't start," Blair answered as they wove their way through the dining tables.

"I'm not starting anything," Serena answered evenly. "In fact, I'm sure that's the first civil conversation the two of you have had in the past five months."

"I would check your definition of 'civil' and 'conversation,'" Blair answered, "and replace it with 'that Bass-tard tormenting me as he so relishes.'"

"Blair."

They stopped short, having arrived at the correct table.

"You had to have known he was coming."

"Like you said," Blair answered. "It's been five months."

"He's a prominent business mogul-"

"Yes, I was introduced," Blair sneered. "Everyone is practically dripping with aroused excitement at the very prospect of speaking with The Infamous Chuck Bass. It must do wonders for his ego."

"I think you're going a little too far," Serena suggested with mild disgust. "I'll refrain from pointing out that you sound exactly like him." Blair didn't even bother with rolling her eyes, though feeling the very trap that his presence caused creeping up on her. "And haven't you heard? Brendon Cooper's here."

"Who?" Blair asked dismissively.

"Brendon Cooper," Serena repeated. "Of Cooper Enterprises."

"I can't be that easily overlooked."

Both girls heard the older voice over their shoulders and turned to the interloper simultaneously, a society smile plastered on both their faces.

"Excuse me?" Blair asked. "We were having a conversation."

Or at least, Serena's face.

"Blair," Serena reprimanded.

"It's quite alright," the apparent innovator of Cooper Enterprises replied. But in an entirely unprecedented scenario, he wasn't looking at Serena at all. His eyes were trained solely on Blair's.

"I'm so wealthy that usually no one tells me what they really think to my face."

"We weren't telling you anything," Blair reminded him with a roll of her eyes. "You were eavesdropping."

"My apologies," Brendon answered. "But you weren't exactly having a private conversation. And you're at my table."

"_Your_ table?" Blair asked coolly.

"I can see that I'm not going to win this conversation," Brendon said almost conspiratorially to Serena.

"Not in the slightest," Serena smiled, offering her hand. "I'm Serena van der Woodsen."

"Brendon Cooper," he replied.

"We've been over that already," Blair said in that way that made it sound like she was giving a compliment, when she it was really an insult.

"And you must be..." Brendon prompted.

"Blair Waldorf," Blair conceded, finally doing the proper thing and offering her hand. As he gripped her hand, the cold metal of his wedding band pressed firmly against her flesh.

"Pleasure," Brendon smiled at her.

The oddest feeling washed over Blair as Brendon's eyes raked over her dress approvingly, and she felt both skeptical and flattered at his attention. There was something strangely familiar and yet distant about his appearance. His three-piece Armani suit was impeccable, and she found herself staring at his paisley tie, wondering where she had seen it before. The faint, lingering scent of Acqua di Gio permeated the air, and Blair scrutinized his features, noting that he couldn't have been any older than thirty-two.

"So what's your major?" Brendon inquired, his hand still enclosed over Blair's. Blair felt Serena's eyes on her as she removed her hand, which was slick from the heat. The back of her neck prickled, and she was suddenly very afraid that she was too close this charming and older businessman.

Like she was being watched.

Preposterous.

"Business," Blair replied at the same time Serena said "Neurobiology."

Blair shot Serena a sharp look in place of her usual elbow in the ribs when Serena pretended not to be undecided. Neurobiology? It was a wonder that Serena even knew how to pronounce 'Neurobiology'.

"Business," Brendon said, much to Blair's surprise. He was looking at her and not at the Golden Princess. "That is actually an area I have quite a bit of expertise in."

"Like Blair needs it," Serena said under her breath.

"What was that?" Brendon asked curiously.

"Nothing," Blair smiled sweetly.

"She's right," Serena said. "It's nothing. It's just that my stepbrother is Chuck Bass. She's been exposed to that sort of expertise since-"

"Thank you," Blair said shortly, "Serena."

"Chuck Bass," Brendon said conversationally. "I suppose you are at that age."

"What age?" Blair asked, unable to be free from taking offense.

"I've just heard rumors, that's all," Brendon said. "Bartholomew Bass was one of my biggest rivals. Luckily for me, his son is rumored to be somewhat of a Lothario."

"And Blair is his Lolita-"

"Serena," Blair snapped again. Brendon looked dubiously between the two before turning to Serena for a moment.

"Neurobiology sounds fascinating," he said. "What sort of credentials do you need for that?"

Serena blanched, and Blair smirked slightly as the conversation came to an abrupt halt.

"Actually," Brendon said as he looked around, "If I'm not mistaken we're about to dine. Would you care to join me by my place?"

His hand was stretched out towards Blair, but she nodded towards Serena, making it very clear that the invitation to dine with another "prominent business mogul" was to be extended towards the both of them.

"So," he spoke up as they were being served, "Miss Waldorf, I had no idea you had such...connections."

"Pardon?" she asked, eying her very full plate with slight distaste. Serena looked at her pointedly.

"You said you're acquainted with Chuck Bass," Brandon said and Blair noted the slight ire in his voice. Jack Bass wasn't the only one. No one could accept a rival in the industry from a boy who hadn't even graduated college. Or even gone in the first place.

"He's Serena's step-brother," Blair shrugged.

"Will he be at this table?" Brendon asked smoothly. Blair stopped short, looking to Serena for support.

"No," Serena replied, apparently very well informed. "He has some investors to speak with. He'll be courting them over dinner."

"I'm to assume that he doesn't attend Columbia, then," Brendon said. Unable to contain herself, Blair let out a peal of laughter and Serena looked at her sternly. Blair knew that Chuck had been invited to the alumni dinner solely because Columbia wanted press. And 'young, promising CEOs with a natural flair for business' would bring press.

"Chuck doesn't go to college," Blair answered primly, knowing full well that Brendon Cooper knew that Chuck Bass had never stepped foot in a college for an education. More like seducing co-eds.

Strangely enough, Brendon wasn't looking at her in that condescending way her mother did when she breached propriety. He was smiling at her with an expression she couldn't quite describe. Suddenly, she wished that she hadn't invited Serena to sit with them at all.

"I only ask because I am an alumnus of Columbia myself."

"And you don't want the likes of Chuck Bass encroaching on its hallowed grounds?" Blair asked.

"Well if he's an acquaintance of yours, he can't be as bad I've heard."

Brendon Cooper. Built Cooper Enterprises from the ground up like his (former) rival Bart Bass. He was younger than most of his competitors, but unlike Chuck, he had experience in the business world. He was smooth, knew how to dress, and was an alumnus of Columbia-something that Blair valued with high regard. But there was one thing that Brendon Cooper didn't have that Chuck Bass did. And that was the ability to appear out of nowhere.

"I've missed this." She was abusing sarcasm at this point.

Blair hated that he had startled her while she ordered her julep. She hated herself more for knowing that it was him without needing to look at him. She turned to see him with his customary glass of scotch and an even more customary expression.

Smugness.

"Almost as much as I've missed you, love," he said fondly, tipping her chin up to meet her eyes. She slapped his hand away with an irritated scowl.

"You gave up the right to touch me right about the time you gave up the right to walk without a cane," Blair said cruelly. His nostrils flared with emotion, but he swept it away quickly.

"You hurt me, I hurt you," Chuck said. "Isn't that how the game is played?"

"This isn't a game," Blair snapped.

"Then stop treating it like one," Chuck answered just as quickly. "Or was that not my father's rival you were flirting with? My rival now, too. Not that Cooper Enterprises is anywhere near the prestige of Bass Industries."

"Please," Blair mocked with practiced affability "we both know that Cooper Enterprises has surpassed Bass Industries' stocks in the past few days. And from the looks of it, Bass Industries won't be catching up anytime soon. Especially with the recent loss of revenue from L.A."

"I'm impressed Waldorf," Chuck said coolly, regarding her with his trademark Chuck Bass smirk. The one that made almost every girl in a five-mile radius swoon and fall into his arms without a second thought. Every girl, save for one. "Perhaps we should hire you for an internship. I know I wouldn't mind working closely with you on a few projects. In fact, I foresee a lot of late nights in close quarters. Maybe on top of my desk."

"Your blatant come-ons are mediocre at best," Blair said drolly. "I think your time spent on the ethical side of things has greatly impeded your game."

"You're still standing here, aren't you?" he asked without missing a beat.

"What does that have to do with anything?" she asked. But it was becoming more and more apparent to her why she and Chuck hadn't had more than a two-minute conversation in the last five months. It was tense between them, the passion still evident although she had sworn him from her life. With his every word she felt herself losing her power to resist him. She couldn't give into him just yet, not without forgiving him first. And she was in danger of forgiving him if he continued talking to her like that. Maybe she already had.

"Don't pretend that you didn't wear that dress just for me," he uttered lowly in her ear. She glared at the traitorous goosebumps rising on her skin as his piquant breath brushed against her ear.

She settled for grinding her heel into his instep. She heard his light groan as he pulled away, hating the memories that were invoked in her at the masculine sound.

"Luckily for me, I don't have to worry about what you think anymore," Blair answered, with a smirk at his vulnerable state. "Everything that has happened since the summer is just further evidence that whatever we had is over." He had recovered quickly and was already rising to his full height-inches above her, even while she in heels. She hated that self-assured smirk that he wore, as if he believed that she could never hurt him.

"That wasn't very nice," he informed her. "Or ladylike. Do you treat all business moguls you meet like that?"

"Not just anyone," she replied smoothly." You're special. And using the phrase 'business mogul' very loosely."

"And you are deluded," he said as though it were just an amusing anecdote. "The two of us are too connected to be anything but apart anymore. Your dalliances with prominent Columbia alumni don't make a difference. I believe they have a word for that. It's called prostitution."

"You do realize that you calling me a whore isn't as flattering as you might think."

"When have you ever been susceptible to flattery?" he remarked absentmindedly. "There's a reason I was the first man you let into your bed. And there's a reason that I'll be the last. You like the way I talk to you. Like there's no one else in the world. Because you're not like anyone else. Even if Bruce Wayne over there may think differently."

"That doesn't mean I respond well to being called a prostitute," she reminded him, ignoring the obvious fact that Chuck's rampant jealousy had flared up again from something so innocent. "That's Serena's territory."

"No," he said confidentially into her ear. "You only respond well to it when we're alone."

She knew that the easy way to retaliate was another form of physical injury. But she also knew that it would only encourage him further. He was the only person with whom she could fail to come up with a retort. They were too well matched. And suddenly his mantra of '_we're the same, Waldorf' _didn't seem so far fetched. Then again, she had realized this years before.

"Maybe you're right," she finally said sweetly.

"That isn't in any way surprising," he replied. But they were both aware that Blair Waldorf didn't just roll over and take it.

"I think I'll go over and talk to that prominent Columbia alumnus like the whore I am," she answered coolly. "Maybe he can give me some tips for my classes. His company's stocks seem to be doing exceeding well, wouldn't you say so, Bass?"

As she turned her back to him, she felt his furious gaze boring into her back, and she smirked slightly to herself in victory. She had hurt him as he had hurt her, as was the never ending cycle. Despite her assurances to Serena that she was over their games, over _him_, she knew that what they had would never wane. He still liked to believe that they were inevitable. And she was loath to disagree with him.

Shaking the thought from her mind, Blair smiled coquettishly as she approached the prominent Columbia alumnus currently seated at the bar, vodka tonic in hand. Sliding next to him, coy smile in place, Blair knew exactly what she was doing. She was sitting next to a man who was not only the CEO of Bass Industries' rival, but also well past graduating college. And as he turned to face her, she realized that she liked it.

She knew that she was soliciting conversation with a Christian Bale look-a-like because Chuck Bass had goaded her into doing so. But what she hadn't counted on was relishing the attention. Because this person was smiling at her curiously and offering to buy her a gin martini. She shouldn't be indulging in it, shouldn't be enjoying the attention from a man of his stature. It was not Brendon's attention to her that had urged her forward, but the snide remark from the other half of her soul and the fact that at this very moment, she felt his very hot and very dark eyes watching her from a nook in the corner.

"I'm glad you decided to deign me with your presence once more."

Once again she found herself lost in a reverie about _him_ while in apparent conversation with someone else. And like all other instances, it seemed to be the same man who had plagued her since childhood that demanded her attention. Even with a single stare.

"And why is that?" Blair asked, gaining her bearings once more as she forced herself to ignore the pointed glare from across the room.

"I enjoy your company," he told her with a smile.

"And what is it about my company that you enjoy?" she returned with an equally coy smile.

"I find myself wondering the same thing," he mused. "I don't usually sleep with the enemy, so to speak."

"I wouldn't go that far," Blair answered flirtatiously, not really understanding what she was doing. "But I didn't realize that I was the enemy, in any case."

"Your friend made it very clear that your allegiance lies with Chuck Bass." She could hear the slight disdain in his voice again.

"She's the one who's related to him," Blair answered, stirring her drink decisively. "I, on the other hand, am free to do as I please."  
"Is that so?"

At his tone of voice she looked into his eyes with a strange sense of familiarity. She suddenly found herself oddly afraid. And strangely intrigued. Leaning in, she realized that she was flirting in an improper and overt manner. But Brendon had never looked away from her once.

"Do you know what you're doing?" she smirked darkly, knowing exactly what this looked like from a distance. Especially to the competitive and possessive eyes from across the room.

"I have no idea," he replied in the same tone. "But I'd love to find out."

Blair leaned away, satisfied that her display had been intimate enough. But she had never been in a situation like this before. It was exciting. And it was wrong. Two qualities that she was highly familiar with.

"I am glad that I met you tonight, Blair," he replied, his voice lowering an octave as his eyes sought hers. She was very aware of the fact that he stopped addressing her as 'Miss Waldorf'. The usage of her first name both thrilled and scared her at the same time. Never before had she been quite so intimate with an older man so as to warrant a first-name basis. Even her mother's many colleagues and acquaintances only called her 'Blair' when permitted to do so by her mother.

Her friends called her that. Chuck called her that. Then again, he also called her by his own vulgar pet names.

"I mean it."

Blair hated how she had receded so easily back to dark eyes and a darker demeanor when the attractive man before her was still speaking to her. She knew that he had noticed it as well.

"How often do meet someone who will insult you to your face?" Blair asked with a teasing smile.

"That's not why," he answered quietly, and her knuckles turned white against the stem of her glass. He cleared his throat and the moment passed. "Actually, I thought you were the perfect candidate for a spring internship at Cooper Enterprises. Bass Industries can't offer you that."

Blair shut away the recollection of Chuck's hot and tight body molding against hers as he promised her dark nights in his office.

"Not in so many ways," Blair smiled tightly. Brendon reached into the pocket of his suit and a wave of his cologne wafted under her nose. It was distinct. Even if it wasn't distinct like she was used to. He reached out, handing her a stiff card.

"Here's my card," he told her as she looked down at the overly elaborate business information. She felt a strange sort of jolt and she knew he was trying to impress her. Chuck used to do the same thing when he would show her the interior of new hotels he would buy.

"Thank you," Blair replied archly. "I don't suppose I'll need an interview?"

"I think you'll be a perfect fit at Cooper Enterprises," he told her, taking the card back from her. Their fingers brushed together and Blair felt oddly inclined to grasp his hand.

"I'm just going to write my cell on the back," he narrated for her as he took out a pen from his breast pocket. Blair sat back on her bar stool, knowing that she should find this entire interaction entirely inappropriate. Instead, all that came to mind was how his left hand scrawled across the card with practiced ease, making his scent more dominant as he shifted back to return it to her. Their fingers brushed against each other's once more and she found herself smiling. Not just because she felt compelled to by furious eyes in the background, but also because she _wanted _to.

They were looking upon each other as she fingered the card delicately. "Just in case you need any guidance with your coursework." he added, nodding towards her hand. The undertone in his words were still clear.

"I don't suppose a CEO like yourself would have the time to help a mere college student like me?" Blair inquired with false modesty.

"Ah," he said with practiced ease "we at Cooper Enterprises like to lend a helping hand to future employees. Particularly ones with bright futures like yours."

"Oh?" Blair arched an eyebrow at him. "And I don't suppose this future would entail me working closely with the CEO, would it?"

"It's plausible," he said, as though he was considering it for the first time. "I think you would excel in convincing others to see things your way. And you seem quite adept at telling others what to do as well."

Blair smiled discreetly, knowing full well that he meant it exactly as she took it. As a compliment. Vibrations coming from her purse startled her as Brendon looked on, a picture of vague amusement.

"Serena," Blair answered the unspoken question. Brendon nodded understandingly. "I should..." He stood up as she slid out of her own chair. She noticed the way he straightened his lapel and she wished she didn't. She wished that he wasn't wearing a paisley tie, in part because of another man that had a penchant for paisley ties. But she smiled anyway. She smiled because it was easy to overlook.

"Am I to be expecting a call from you?" he asked and she knew they were standing closer than was appropriate.

"We'll see," she said teasingly. A tone of voice that she had learned from the devil himself.

Because the devil himself was staring at her with betrayal in his eyes and she wished that she still didn't dream about the way his kiss burned her into oblivion. She wished that her eyes weren't still trained on his fiery ones, as Brendon Cooper's fingers intertwined with hers.

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tbc


	3. Cooper Enterprises

**AN: Thank you to everyone who reviewed/favorited/alerted this story. We were absolutely floored by the amazing response to this story! And by the amazing-ness of our reviewers-you guys are awesome. Plus, you noticed Brendon is essentially an older, more mature C (!). The differences between the two will become more apparent as our story progresses, and rest assured that CB will always be endgame.

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"Have fun," Blair called out gloomily as Serena left in a flurry of blonde curls and a short green dress that Blair had to wince at.

"Are you sure you don't want to come along B?" Serena asked, pausing at the doorway. Blair was dressed down in a silk robe, her books surrounding her as she glowered at them.

"And be a third wheel in your vain attempt to ignore Nate?" Blair wrinkled her nose, "No thank you. Go. Have fun with Jacob."

"Thanks B!" Serena called as she shut the door, seemingly unaffected about Blair's underhanded remark.

As she waited for the car, she had a thought that one could classify as being very Blair-like. Pulling out her phone with a smirk (that was also eerily similar to her stepbrother's), Serena sent a quick text, knowing that there was only one person whose company Blair desired. The one that she needed.

_B's alone in our apartment. -S._

_...  
_

Blair frowned at her textbook, the letters seemingly re-arranging themselves before her eyes. She groaned in frustration, slamming her textbook closed with a satisfactory _thwack!_ and leaning back amongst her pillows with a sigh.

Economics had never been Blair's strongest subject-she had always hated the law of supply and demand after all. She understood, of course, the relationship between supply & demand. But she hated how one was entirely dependent upon the other. As if their existence was _based_ around each other-which it was. But that didn't mean they couldn't be somewhat _independent._ As she wrestled with the concepts currently twisting through her mind, she briefly wondered if she should call Brendon. The business card he had given her was worn around the edges from her constant toying. Before she could reach for her phone, she heard the door open, and Blair raised an eyebrow, eyes still closed against the harsh lighting of the apartment.

"Back so soon S?" she called out.

"It's not Serena," a deeper, and much more masculine voice husked quite clearly.

From the moment Blair heard the lazy drawl from the other side of the room, she knew that she had been double-crossed. From Serena's refusal at anything subtle paired with the immediate interruption not twenty minutes after Serena's departure, Blair knew exactly what was going on.

"Get out."

Chuck Bass smirked at her with his lazy appeal and his impeccable wardrobe that suddenly seemed uncharacteristically rumpled to her.

And she knew that he had been drinking.

"Hello to you too, lover."

She hated that sentence. She hated his usage of the word 'lover', which she had always deemed slightly crude. She hated how it made her insides quiver and her hot all over. She shot another glare his way, as if she couldn't be bothered with a greeting. In truth, his presence seemed to shock her into a state of lust that left her tongue-tied and unable to form a coherent retort.

"Can't a friend just stop by to say hello?"

Yes. He had definitely been drinking.

"I told you to get out, Bass," Blair answered rigidly. He ignored her commanding hand as she just watched in horror as he made his way towards her bed and taking a seat on it.

"I love the way you say may name," he leered. "It reminds me of my bedroom. Or what used to be our bedroom. You know I can still smell you all over my sheets. Especially in the one spot where you came so hard you-"

"Stop it."

Her voice was small, but harsh and unforgiving as he stared into her eyes. She knew she would see no softness in his-but she would always see desire.

"I'm not the one who started it."

"Excuse me?" Blair asked. "You who is currently highly intoxicated and lounging on my bed right now? You started this."

"You could have said yes."

It was the one topic they had been skirting since he came back. It was the one thing that would always hold them together.

"I don't know-"

"The innocent act was intriguing at first, Waldorf," he said, finally getting up. "But I know better. I have a whole library of recollections that prove differently. That day in the hospital-"

"You never asked the question," Blair sniffed, looking away.

"I would have," he answered.

"You're leaving," Blair said, taking a hold of his hand in an attempt to drag him towards the door. "Now."

"Give me one reason why I should," he taunted her, clearly enjoying whatever sick game she assumed they were playing.

"Because I don't want you here." she spat venomously, which only seemed to delight him further.

"Then why are you still holding my hand?"

Looking down at their intertwined hands, Blair frowned, attempting to let go. Which only made him smirk and caress the inside of her wrist with his thumb. "Because I have an economics exam tomorrow. And I need to study."

"Not good enough," he teased. Belatedly, Blair realized what game they had been playing. Smirking coyly, she knew the exact words to turn the game in her favor.

"Actually," Blair said with relish, "I was just about to head out."

"Like that?" Chuck nodded towards her pale pink robe. "Give it up Waldorf. You and I both know you have nothing better to do tonight."

"Oh?" Blair seethed. "I think I do have something, or rather, _someone_, better to do tonight."

She watched in triumph as anger flashed in his eyes.

"No."

"What?" Blair asked in surprise at the tight command.

"No, Blair," he told her and she knew in his mind, he wasn't giving her a choice. His hand had tightened around hers and he had pulled her body towards him. "You're not going anywhere."

"Let go of me."

It was only one hand wrapped around hers but as he looked down, she knew that it was occurring to him that it was truly in his power to keep her with him.

"_He_ is more interested in having you than giving you an internship," Chuck sneered at the obvious pronoun, his eyes raking over the exposed flesh of her leg. "He doesn't know intuitively how to hit that spot that makes you shudder every time. You must remember. The first time in the limo when you broke a nail on my leather interior." She was quiet through his reminiscence, hating that recollection of how even though she had been a virgin, he knew exactly what to do that would make her and her alone squirm and shriek. "I, on the other hand..." he continued, letting his voice trail off suggestively as his one finger smoothly undid the tie on the sash of her robe with practiced ease that brought back even more heady memories of _What if I made it worth it? _and _Oh, we have a deal._

"You arrogant, self-serving, heinous pig!" she yelped, slapping his hand away, hoping he would buy her, once again, quickly constructed façade. It only caused him to tighten his hold around her waist.

"Waldorf," he breathed, and suddenly his lips were close, _too_ close, to her ear. She shivered involuntarily, his breath heated and laced with scotch.

"You're drunk," she told him, pushing him off her, attempting to bar him from burying his face in her sweet smelling neck like he so loved to do..

"You smell good," he told her instead, further proving her last observation. He attempted to pull her closer, but was met with empty air as she moved away, glaring back at him.

She stalked over to the door, opening it with a flourish and motioning him towards the empty hallway. He stood up, making his way over to the door with deliberate slowness, if only to be closer to her for a moment longer. Instead, she sidestepped him, looking as though she wished she hadn't.

He watched her in the doorway of the haven he was allowed, if only for a few minutes. The hallway of the dorms was quiet and her silk robe was his own hell of tantalizing deliciousness that she was barring access to what used to be so easily obtained. When her heart used to be broken she would sidle up to him in his limo and he would be alive again.

"You really think this is over?" he asked and she wouldn't have put it past him to fake inebriation to get into her bed.

"Looks like it," Blair replied brightly.

He smirked bitterly. "You and I are like no one else. You think you can just walk into my life with no repercussions? You made me love you. You're going to have to deal with the consequences."

"I didn't make you do anything," Blair uttered and he smirked and she suddenly thought of White Parties and proclamations of _We're the same._

"Tell me you don't love me."

It was the one thing she really wasn't expecting. She stared at him as he leaned his head against the doorframe with that impish charm that he had. She was literally speechless and she hated that he was aware of that.

"You have no right to ask me that."

"I didn't ask you anything," he said.

"No," she conceded. "You demanded it of me."

"I'm not demanding anything," he told her wish another self-assured smirk. "I'm simply-"

"You're simply assuming I still love you."

"Ah," he said with a beatific smile. "So you do love me."

"No," she seethed in frustration. She wanted to slap that smirk off his face-but at the same time she had the oddest urge to kiss him. "You're assuming that."

"I wouldn't be assuming anything if it were true."

"It isn't true," she told him haughtily.

"What isn't true?" he asked, faux-innocently. When she remained silent, his smirk turned to one of victory. "You can't even lie to me. Not that I would believe you. I may love you with the whole of my rotted and worthless heart, but you're still a lying bitch."

She couldn't help her surprise, but even at disdainful words, he was still looking at her with the utmost desire and even admiration.

"No one will ever be able to love you like I do," he promised. "No one can ever know you like I do. You will never find anyone as worthlessly devoted to you. You will never find anyone as wretched as I am. And you love it. You love every inch of my wafer thin soul."

Her face was inscrutable and he felt the anger start to burn the alcohol away.

"Is that all you've got?" she asked cruelly. "Just another grandly articulate speech constructed to make me fall into the arms of Chuck Bass? Please."

His face really did betray his livid emotion and she resisted the urge to flinch. No matter how much time had passed, she hated him being angry with her. She hated disappointing him.

"You think you can forget me just like that? " He asked malevolently. "With some married, bored-with-his-life CEO who is just going to chew you and spit you back up even more messed up than before, and that's just going to be okay with me?"

"It's not a date, your narcissistic bastard," Blair snapped. "He's a businessman offering me an opportunity. And even if it was as heinous as you're suggesting, it's none of your concern. I never needed your permission. I don't belong to you."

"That mark behind your thigh begs to differ."

She didn't even think about it. But as her hand rose to imprint on the side of his face, he caught her wrist, spinning her so he had her facing him against the wall. She knew it was the reaction that he was looking for.

"I've still got you right where I want you, princess," he promised. "We have always been like this. And you going off with random CEOs isn't going to change it."

"Get off of me," Blair uttered darkly.

"One for the road?" Chuck asked, an evil glint to his eyes. Blair knew that look. She used to love that look. His pelvis was aligned with hers as he pressed his mouth fervently against hers. He pulled away, anger reverberating off of him.

"When you're flirting with your consort," Chuck spat, "just try to get the taste of me out of your mouth."

Blair heard the door slam as she slumped against the wall while true to her word, all she could taste was scotch at the back of her mouth. She pulled her silk robe tighter against her frame, still able to feel his body heat and knowing his natural musk was coating her like cologne.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Blair turned towards her purse renewed determination, smirking shakily as she found the small card within its confines.

Her fingers shook slightly for Chuck's phantom presence still smothered her with his passion as she dialed the number on the worn business card.

He picked up on the first ring.

"Hello?"

"It's Blair Waldorf," she told him, a note of confidence finally lighting her voice. "I have an economics test tomorrow, and the material is slightly-"

"I'm finished with my meetings for the day," he interrupted her, a smile in his voice. "Perhaps you could drop by the office? I'd be happy to help. It would also be a great opportunity for me to introduce you to Mr. Conville, who aids in intern selection."

"I thought I was guaranteed an internship?" she asked coyly. "Perhaps I'll have to re-think my loyalty to Cooper Enterprises."

"Well," he said, and Blair could almost see a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "I guess we'll have to see when you come by the office. Maybe I'll conduct a mock interview while you're here."

"Oh," faux-disappointment colored her tone, "I guess I'll have to come by."

"You're at Columbia?"

Blair nodded, before remembering that she was talking to him through a phone. "I am."

"I'll send a car. Twenty minutes?"

She smirked to herself in victory. "Sounds perfect."

_Take that, Bass-tard_.

...

A smirk graced her features as she flounced out of the dorm building dressed in a black pencil skirt and demurely buttoned white shirt, a sleek black town car idling at the curb.

As she made her way over to the car, her navy blue heels clicking against the stone of the pavement, a sudden fear struck her. This was _not_ something Blair Waldorf did. She left it to the Serena van der Woodsens of the world, preferring to hide her vixen-like tendencies behind propriety and society smiles. But as her steps slowed, she convinced herself that she wasn't doing anything wrong. She was simply doing what Chuck had pushed her to do, because he had goaded her, knowing full well that Blair Waldorf never backed down from a challenge.

She would show _him_, she decided, allowing the self-assured smirk to appear once again as she stepped into the waiting car. The same self-assured smirk that had graced the lips of one Chuck Bass-who was currently donning an expression of seething anger. The expression never changed as he stalked over to his waiting limo, rasping at the driver with quiet danger to follow the black car.

"So as I was saying," he finished proudly "I think you'd be a really great fit here at Cooper Enterprises. There's no shortage of opportunities around here, and I have no doubt you'd excel in this environment."

Blair looked from the forms she held in her hand and to Brendon's easy, charming smile. "It seems like an intriguing opportunity."

"You'll enjoy working here," he promised her. "And I'm sure we would find a more permanent _position _around here for you after the first few months."

"I don't know," Blair shrugged, "I was taught to always entertain other opportunities before agreeing to one."

"By all means," Brendon said with a shrug of his own. "We'll let you play the field, so to speak. This internship does have its perks though."

"Besides my own desk, flexible hours, and the promise of a more permanent position?" Blair returned easily.

"Well," Brendon leaned forward, a smirk gracing his features. "You get to work with me, for one."

"I can't tell if that's a good or bad thing," Blair replied honestly.

"Of course it's a good thing," he admonished. "Where else would I find a refreshingly honest young woman who will insult me to my face?"

"I am one of a kind," Blair mused. "And here I thought you were simply using the internship as a ploy to get me over here."

"And why would I need a ploy to get you over here?"

"Well," Blair smirked. "you're not the most trustworthy of people"

"You wanted this internship, but you didn't think I was trustworthy?" Brendon asked.

"I suppose I'm attracted to the wrong people," Blair answered smoothly.

"Do you think I'm a bad person?" Brendon asked, his voice reaching a low husk.

"Not bad," Blair contradicted. "Just... intriguing."

"Intriguing," he said. "How does that translate to bad?"

"I'm intrigued by things that aren't good for me," she responded.

"Dangerous," he supplied and she knew they were too close when she could feel his body heat.

"Exactly," she replied.

"What made you think I was dangerous?" he asked.

"I know you're not dangerous," Blair sneered prettily. This made him laugh. "But some people think you're dangerous…for me."

"Who?" he asked with interest.

"A friend."

It was all she really could say. She didn't know how to describe him anymore.

"I guess that guy is a really big a part of your life," Brendon said with a deceptive smile.

"What makes you think it's a 'he'?'" Blair asked, unable to _not_ feel affronted. Still, even after all this time, she felt the need to protect him.

"The same 'he' that accosted you at the Alumni dinner?" Brendon tried. "If he can't let go of you, I can't really blame him."

"You don't even know me," Blair said but it felt false in her voice.

"Really?" he asked. "Then why does it feel like I do?"

He was closer now, and though no part of their bodies touched physically, Blair could feel the heat emanating off his skin. His eyes held a question as he leaned in slowly, his nose brushing against hers slightly.

She could smell the scent of his cologne as it invaded her senses, and it was at this very inopportune moment, that she recalled Chuck's words. And though she didn't _try_ to get the taste of him from her lips, she found that when Brendon's lips covered hers, all she could smell was Acqua di Gio, and all she could taste was something forbidden and dark, yet completely unfamiliar.

Glancing out the tinted glass of his limo, Chuck tilted his head up towards the brightly lit windows near the top of the building. As he noted the darkness of the sky and the time on his watch, his hands clenched and his heart gave a painful tug. A growing sense of apprehension flooded his mind as he considered what they could have been doing in there for such an extended period of time.

* * *

tbc


	4. The Suite

**AN: Thank you all for your continued support, appreciation, and love for our story. We hope you're enjoying Brendon (aka Christian Bale, aka Batman) and awesome Chuck jealousy…isn't that always fun to read? We also apologize for the lack of updates. Finding time to collaborate isn't always easy when we're balancing stories of our own, school, and extracurriculars, but we are definitely sticking with this story.

* * *

**

Blair sighed in frustration as she glared at the copy machine once more, the imposing machine glaring right back at her with the flashing words, _Out of Paper._

How could that be possible when she had just refilled every tray to its capacity? The machine was still as stubborn as ever, not allowing her to copy the document in hand.

Blair Waldorf was _not_ cut out for menial work, least of all something as trivial as _photocopying_. But Melanie, the resident intern supervisor, had deemed Blair unable to handle anything other than menial tasks-something which Blair chalked up to Melanie's obvious obsession over Brendon. He had visited the interns' office-where Blair had her own desk and personal space-often, seemingly following her wishes that he wasn't to avoid her. If anything, he was going out of his way to oversee the seven interns-something Blair had learned he hardly did.

Blair knew Brendon's sudden interest in overseeing the interns was due in part to his attraction to her. She knew it was wrong, utterly and completely wrong, but she hadn't the heart to stop him.

And it was completely perplexing to her as to_ why_ she enjoyed his daily visits. Perhaps it had to do with the fact that he completely ignored Melanie's cleavage and obvious come-ons, focusing on Blair instead.

She felt his presence before he cleared his throat, and she turned around with a mock glare upon her features, "Your copy machine doesn't work," she declared.

The smirk lit his tired features, and he chuckled softly as he made his way over to her. "Blair Waldorf, doing the photocopying? That's something I never thought I'd see."

"_Miss Dunn_," she sneered condescendingly. "Seemed to think I'm incapable of anything else."

"Really?" Brendon smirked slightly, and Blair glowered in return. "Well, I guess she hasn't seen your true potential like I have."

His words became dangerously low at the end, and Blair shivered slightly as he inched closer. "Well someone better inform her about my potential, because Blair Waldorf does _not_ do photocopying."

"I'm sure I can persuade her," Brendon told her blithely. "If I recall, Miss Dunn has always had an obsession with me."

Blair wrinkled her nose in distaste, stepping back as to put a more space between them.

"Not that I've ever acted on it," he assured her.

She turned away from him, and back to the task at hand. Following her lead, he leaned over and pressed a blue button on the machine.

_Place document into tray_ the machine said, and Blair looked up at him in surprise.

"You had to tell the printer there was paper first," he told her lightly.

"Oh," Blair replied. "Well Blair Waldorf doesn't exactly do _photocopying_."

"I realize that," he told her in amusement. "I'll talk to Miss Dunn about giving you more rewarding tasks."

He turned to leave, the same way he had come in, and Blair found herself calling after him.

"Wait," he turned, the expectant look on his face quickly replaced by a cool look approval. "Thank you." she said honestly, and he smirked in response.

"You're always welcome," he answered, and she didn't miss the underlying meaning in his words as she turned back towards the photocopier.

"Serena," Blair said in amusement as her blonde roommate entered their shared apartment. "What are you doing here?"

"I do live here too," Serena told her with a short laugh.

"Could have fooled me," Blair replied sardonically. "I think this is the first time you've been here in the past couple days."

"I was here yesterday," Serena said pointedly.

"Oh, I was at the office late yesterday." Blair said offhandedly, though Serena's eyes widened. "So, S, where have you been staying these past nights?"

Serena knew that the diversion was simply a reaction to the fact that Serena had caught on to something-something Blair didn't want her to know.

"Nate's," Serena admitted. "We've been…working things out. But that's not the point. The point is, I've hardly seen you since you started your internship."

"I've been busy," Blair countered defensively. "This internship means a lot to me. Some of us actually have _ambitions_ in life."

"I can tell," Serena mused, pointedly ignoring the last comment. "Late nights, B?"

"Just yesterday," Blair forced her tone to be conversational, lest Serena realize that something was going on. "I had a few more things to finish."

Blair didn't mention that she had only a simple e-mail translation to finish, and the rest of the night had been spent in Brendon's office. She had cultivated a boundary between them, but he had been toeing the line ever since. The subtle glances and not-so-subtle remarks only heightened her awareness of the fact. She was flirting with a married man-there was no sugar-coating it. And Blair knew as well as anyone that she what she had been doing was dangerous, immoral, really. But when it came to her and Chuck, when had things ever been _moral_? There was no virtue between them-only sin.

He had goaded her into continuing this, at least that was what she had told herself. When in truth, Blair knew that while Chuck may have pushed her to this, she had continued it. Because she _liked_ it. She liked Brendon talking to her in that adult manner. No mind games. No manipulation. As if her opinion meant _something_ to him. More than something, actually.

"I've never seen you so busy. Even when you were a part of nearly every committee and group in high school." Serena was saying, her voice conversational, though Blair caught the underlying meaning.

"Like I said," Blair replied blithely. "This internship means a lot to me."

Serena nodded, knowing the topic she shouldn't breach was right on the tip of her tongue,she changed the subject quickly.

"Do you want to go to the Modern tonight?"

Blair shook her head, turning to the book in her hands. "I'm behind in my management class. I'm staying in tonight."

"All you ever do is work," Serena pouted, and Blair shot her a look. "Alright, B, I can see you're stressed. Do you want me to bring you back some cheesecake?"

Blair wrinkled her nose, and Serena laughed. "You can pretend like you don't like it, but I know you better than that."

Blair smiled slightly, "With extra raspberries and dark chocolate sauce?"

"But of course," Serena replied with a grin.

"What are you doing here?"

She knew how hard and sharp her voice came put but looking at his almost hesitantly lurking figure, she hated Chuck Bass. She hated because whatever he abhorred, it made her want to do the exact opposite.

"A charming coincidence," Chuck answered smoothly, "I happened to have a meeting with your delightful boss."

"Drop the act, Bass," Blair said. "What are you doing here?"

"Like I said," Chuck said more sternly. "I had a meeting with Cooper and I heard you were working late and decided that out of the goodness of my heart, I would offer you a ride home. Besides, you haven't graced the back of my limo in a while."

"Charming," Blair sneered back. "But I decline your request."

"Don't you want to know what the meeting was about?" Chuck asked in an obvious bid to keep her by his side.

"Not particularly," Blair said indifferently, only to have her departure stopped by his hand wrapping around her elbow.

"You're going to find out eventually," Chuck taunted her and she grimaced. She hated how he knew her so well. So well that it would be impossible for her to leave without discovering what that meeting was about.

She was a need to know person. She paused in that strict way that told him to just get to it.

"I just thought that I would inform you," Chuck continued casually, "that I am going to run your boyfriend's company into the ground."

"He isn't my boyfriend," Blair said hastily and she closed her eyes in defeat, knowing that she had just failed his test. His jaw clenched and though there was a look of bitter satisfaction across his face, she knew better. She knew that he was dejected and more than just satisfactorily bitter on the inside.

She was supposed to laugh it off. She was supposed to sneer at his calm assurance that he could measure up to someone ten years older than him.

So that's what she did.

"You really think that's it, do you?" Blair asked dubiously. "That just because Chuck Bass says it's so, that makes it true? To Brendon Cooper, you are nothing more than a little boy, not even worth reprimanding. You couldn't even scratch Brendon Cooper if you tried."

"You didn't think I was so minuscule that night in your dorm," Chuck reminded her. "Which, might I add, has far more superior accommodations than the one you used to have at NYU."

Blair scowled. He knew that she hated hearing that tortuous year brought up. And the things that transpired within it, even more hurtful than that glorified state school.

"You remember, Waldorf," he said with that easy smirk that made her do the most unconscionable things. "How I can make you scream anywhere we are. How that first night in the limo, I had claw marks down my back."

However, his usual mantra wasn't filled with the same degree of self-absorption. He was looking at her with a hard face and she wished that she just didn't care.

"Why do you keep saying his name like that?" Chuck inquired.

"He's not my boyfriend, Chuck," Blair said. "He's my boss."

"Sure," Chuck answered. "A boss who gets some sort of perverse thrill out of screwing his employees."

"Like we didn't know exactly what you were doing with the room service twins," Blair retorted.

"Those were my father's employees," he parried.

"I don't know how you make the distinction," Blair said. "He rose from nothing and you're just soaking up all his glory with nothing of your own."

"Right," Chuck answered. "I didn't go to public school and ride in coach. But let's be honest, Blair. You're as superior as I am. If this was still Brendon Cooper when he was struggling to have doors not slammed in his face, you wouldn't look twice at him."

"I'm tired of this, Chuck," Blair answered. "You moved on and I let you make a fool of yourself with your naïve kindergarten worthy relationship. Why are you being such a hypocrite?"

"You and I both know that wasn't moving on," he said, far too close for comfort. Or to stop her heart from thrumming against her chest. "That was me running away from my true feelings and you and I both know that can't be what you're doing. Because he isn't even your boyfriend. Right?"

"He's just my boss," Blair said breathily and that sight of grim satisfaction had graced his dark features again.

"I heard you," he uttered lowly. "At Lily's that night in the study. How you _miss_ him-"

"Shut up," Blair snapped. "Just... stop talking."

"Do you really want to ruin everything?" Chuck asked. "Do you really want to ruin us?"

"There is no us anymore, Chuck," Blair said and he hated that he could make her so emotional this way. "You made damn sure of that. Brendon isn't my boyfriend. But even if he was, what concern would it be of yours?"

"How about that night after Eva left?" Chuck asked. "Don't you remember that?"

"Break up sex," Blair said immediately, and he knew that she had been waiting for that one.

"We were already broken up," Chuck smirked. "I believe they call that make-up sex. And may I say, Waldorf, you only get better with age."

She was so furious she couldn't even speak.

"Are you going to hit me again?" he taunted. "Because that only gets me more excited for you."

It was the one thing that she couldn't bear to think about but Chuck Bass had come back with a vengeance and she wasn't supposed to like it. Not anymore.

"Brendon Cooper is more of a man than you'll ever be," she spat in seething anger. "I'm on his side now. And there isn't anything you can do about it."

She finally did walk off this time, her heels clicking loudly over Chuck's call.

"Just watch me."

She hated how he could stop her in her tracks and he had time for just one more proclamation.

"Brendon Cooper is going to be destroyed," Chuck promised. "And that's a guarantee."

...

"Mr. Bass I-"

"Money's no object," Chuck cut in menacingly. "Just do whatever you have to do."

"He is a prominent businessman in the city," Preston told him nervously. "The amount of security he has, coupled with the PIs he also has on retainer-"

"Look," Chuck said shortly, "I'll have you know you're my second choice. Mike is on...another assignment."

He winced at the thought of Mike's _other_ assignment. Chuck had done it for her own safety, of course, not trusting _him_ in the least.

"You either do this, or you don't." Chuck said, obviously frustrated. "But I won't have you breathing a word of our conversation to anyone else, do you understand?"

Preston sighed, a crease of worry forming in his brow.

"I'll do it, Mr. Bass."

Chuck smirked, "Excellent."

...

"Blair," came the saccharinely sweet voice from beside her, and Blair frowned slightly at the voice.

"Miss Dunn," she replied cordially, her eyes raking over the woman's attempt at acceptable office attire. Her black pumps were scuffed, her skirt too short, and _far_ too tight, and she would do well to button up a few more buttons on her shirt. She leaned forward menacingly; her fried brown locks tumbling over one shoulder. Blair did not miss the way the male interns eyed the woman's exposed legs appreciatively, and she wrinkled her nose in disgust.

"Mr. Cooper called me into his office yesterday," Blair rolled her eyes slightly, her eyes still trained on her computer screen. "Would you have anything to do with that?"

"Miss Dunn, I can assure you that we are no longer in elementary school. Your petty accusations are a mediocre attempt to-"

"Mediocre?" the woman nearly shrieked, and Blair only smiled prettily in response. "Do you know what's mediocre, Blair? Sleeping with the boss."

Her fists clenched involuntarily, and Blair met the woman's gaze with a fierce one of her own. "Excuse me?"

"Please," Melanie scoffed. "I'm not the only one who's noticed it. The way he visits you in the afternoons, and _always_ asks you to stay later to help with French translations. The man can speak four languages, why he would have to ask a spoiled society brat such as yourself for help is beyond me. Yesterday's meeting only cemented my suspicions. When Mr. Cooper asked me to pay more _attention_ to your supposed intelligence, I had my proof."

Blair scoffed slightly as the woman glared at her in triumph. "Miss Dunn, what you're insinuating here is beyond disgraceful. Mr. Cooper has simply taken an interest in me because of where I go to school. Is there anyone else here who is attending Columbia?"

Blair paused, looking expectantly as the woman's brow creased. "No? I didn't think so. As for the French translations, I am fluent in French. If you knew Mr. Cooper as well as you like to claim you do, then you would realize that he doesn't read French fluently. Nor can he easily translate e-mails in conversational French."

"Even if you're a Columbia student," Melanie sneered. "He wouldn't be taking such an interest in you. It doesn't matter how smart or supposedly innovative you are-Brendon Cooper only offered you this internship because you're _pretty_."

Blair resisted the urge to slap the woman, her knuckles turning white around her pen. "Of course I'm pretty," Blair retorted with her usual dose of venom. "I'm stunning. But unlike you, Miss Dunn, I don't have any desire or low self esteem causing myself to throw my thinly veiled innuendos at the boss in vain attempts to get a promotion. I'm a Waldorf-I don't _need_ this internship. I simply thought it best to gain some experience, and Mr. Cooper offered me an opportunity."

Melanie straightened up, her eyes sweeping over Blair's impassive expression. She opened her mouth, as if to retort once more, but no words came out. As Blair smirked at her easily, toying with the pen in her fingers, Melanie found herself unable to form coherent sentences.

This little society princess she had saddled menial and meaningless tasks with was clearly not one of the air-headed girls that graced page six. The brunette smirking malevolently at her was dangerous, that much she could tell.

"If you don't mind," Blair simpered. "I have quite a bit of work to get done."

Melanie sputtered in disbelief as Blair turned towards her computer once more, the picture of composure and utter flawlessness.

"Having trouble with the copy machine again? You know I'm always willing to help."

Blair whipped around at the sound of his voice, a slow smirk spreading across her face. "Actually, no. I've managed to make forty-three copies without your help."

"I believe that requires a celebratory drink."

She knew exactly what it looked like to gaze upon the deceiving face of a scheming manipulator, but found that she wasn't getting the same strange thrill of bantering with someone who was her match. He was just another attractive man looking at her. But that gave her a different thrill. one she knew she shouldn't be having.

"Shouldn't you be seducing the more prominent and permanent office skanks?" Blair asked calmly. "Not some pre-grad intern?"

"I'm afraid my intentions lie elsewhere."

"Brendon," Blair whispered as his arm wrapped around her waist. "We can't do this, remember?"

"Why not?" he growled into her ear, "I know you want this too. You've been prancing around my office in those tight pencil skirts and heels, and you haven't exactly been fending off my advances."

"We _can't_," Blair insisted once more, squirming out of his grip. "This isn't right."

"Why not?" he asked her again, his voice dangerously low.

"Well," Blair scoffed. "For one, you're my boss."

"All the more reason," he said with a smirk. "You do want to do well here, don't you?"

He watched as Blair's eyes widened in surprise, and the anger that overtook her features. "Are you insinuating that I need to sleep with my boss in order to do well?"

She turned to storm off, the document forgotten on the photocopier, but his hand wrapped around her elbow quickly. "Blair, I didn't mean-what I'm trying to say-" she raised her eyebrows at his stumbled words, "I didn't mean to insinuate anything. You're disarming, did you know that?"

"Disarming?" Blair asked dubiously.

"And charming," he proved with a charming smile of his own. One that exuded confidence and class, and Blair found her self-restraint crumbling once more. "You're undoubtedly the most intriguing woman I've ever met. I can't read you like I can with everyone else-I can't figure you out. And I can't figure out why I'm so attracted to you."

Blair let out a breath she hadn't realized she had been holding, the enormity of the situation crashing down on her with alarming clarity. His hand had travelled from her elbow to her wrist, his thumb drawing small circles on the inside of her palm.

She could feel the desire flooding her body, forbidden heat curling at her toes and warming her chest. There was not one nerve in her body that didn't hum with anticipation, and she could feel the slightly disconcerting intensity of his eyes on hers. His gaze was unwavering, trained on hers as if seeking permission.

Permission neither granted nor denied, but he seemed to infer from her silence that it was permission she had granted as he leaned forward slightly.

His lips captured hers in a moment, a moment of unadulterated passion mixed with a curious sense of fear. The kiss grew more furiously needy, his hands clutching her closer to him, as hers remained limp by her sides. It was not to say, of course, that she didn't reciprocate fully, but she was loath to thread her fingers into his hair. Instead, her hands brushed against metal-the cold metal of the copy machine, to be exact.

And as the chill reverberated through her fingertips, the bleakness of reality set in as she realized where they were, and what they were doing.

"Stop," she murmured against his lips, her hands pushing at his chest. "Brendon, stop."

He released her lips, allowed her to lean back slightly, but his arms remained firmly around her waist.

"I know you want this too," he told her, the slightest hint of a threat lingering in his voice.

"It doesn't matter," Blair replied, still squirming against his iron grip. "Brendon, anyone could walk in and-"

"Is that it?" he asked incredulously. "You're scared about someone finding out?"

"You are my boss. My _married_ boss." she reminded him with derision, finally managing to extract herself form his arms. "This can't happen again." she warned him, backing away from him slowly.

"Blair-"

But she had already turned and rushed out the door.

"I'm sorry you'll have to call back in the morning. Mr. Cooper has left for the day."

Blair heard Liam answering the phones as she sat forward in her chair, still pondering the failure that her life had become. The lights were going down and it was only her and Brendon's assistant left in the office. She sat with a letter of resignation in her hands, a letter that had been typed up two hours ago. Blair knew that this was the right thing to do-the _morally_ honest thing to do. The only problem was, she wasn't sure if she _wanted_ to do it.

"Well that's confidential."

Liam's voice betrayed amusement that wasn't very professional as Blair had the urge to roll her own eyes.

_Clients_.

"All I can assure you is that Mr. Cooper is very important and very busy and it isn't any of your business how he spends his nights."

There was a distinct click of the phone as Liam hung up, and Blair clutched the piece of paper in her hands tightly. At the sound of his commotion, Blair knew that it was officially the end of the day. Now she could go to her dorm to have her best friend look at her judgmentally for staying out so late for a job that she wasn't even getting paid for.

Fantastic.

"You're still here."

Blair looked up at the sound of Liam's surprised voice as he hesitated in the dim lighting.

"I was just finishing this up," Blair answered, pushing the document towards him. Liam's eyes narrowed at his own poor eyesight to look down at her signature.

"You're not really resigning, are you?" Liam asked in a dull expression. Apparently those rumors really had spread across the office in a day.

"I don't really have another choice," Blair answered. "Will you just put this on his desk for me?"

"Care to be more specific?" Liam asked cheekily. Blair sighed in frustration.

"Just put it on Cooper's desk."

"Well he hasn't seen it yet," Liam answered. "You can still save yourself and your career. He needs some documents run over to his suite at that hotel on Park. He's getting ready to buy it."

"Did you mishear me?" Blair asked. "I'm resigning."

"Just think about it," Liam responded. "And while you're thinking about it, run these over. Say they're for Brendon and they'll let you up."

"Isn't this a job more suitable for his assistant?" Blair asked. "I'm just an intern."

"An intern he trusts," Liam said and she thought that she could detect a hint of jealousy in his voice. "He specifically asked for you to bring these-I was only to bring them if you were otherwise occupied."

"He asked for me?" Blair seethed, infuriated with his self assured manner that was far too familiar for her taste.

"If it makes you feel any better," Liam said, "he doesn't think you're coming. In fact, I'm sure that he wouldn't be surprised if he found your resignation on his desk."

"When," Blair corrected.

"Do yourself and your career a favor," Liam said. "Surprise him."

Blair didn't know exactly what she was insinuating and by her silence, she knew that Liam took that as an affirmation.

"Have a good night," he replied evasively, pushing the papers into her hands.

Blair wasn't sure why she didn't throw them away immediately.

And she didn't know why she found herself walking towards Park avenue.

She still hadn't left her so called office. That was what he was sure of. Idling in his limo, he never felt more like a stalker than right at that moment. He had PIs on retainer for a reason. But she was different. She wasn't Finding Out Lily's 20 Year Old Secret or Surveillance of My Hot Italian Au Pair. This was Blair. And Blair required a certain matter of...finesse.

Besides, she already knew what Mike looked like.

_"Mr. Bass? We're here."_

Chuck leaned his head back against the leather seat after he heard Arthur's voice through the partition.

He didn't like leaving before Blair had left herself, but he had a business meeting and the destruction of Blair's life would just have to wait. But soon she would realize what was just meant to be and she would let him pick up the pieces.

The reminding knock on the glass pulled Chuck from his inner monologue that seemed more like a soap opera than anything else and opened the door that emptied out on Park Avenue.

"Fancy meeting you here."

It was a voice that he had no intention of hearing unless it was begging for mercy. Chuck turned in front of the entrance to the hotel to see one Brendon Cooper with a smug and horrible smile (smirk) that gave Chuck the impression that he was over.

Even though he knew without a doubt that he definitely was not.

"I can't honestly say that it is," Chuck answered. Brendon shrugged.

"That's your business. I for one, love that my very presence gets under your skin."

And the gloves were off.

"And what about me?" Chuck sneered. "What is it about me that makes you so hell bent on destruction? You know why I hate you. But why do you hate me?"

"Besides the fact that the papers have deemed us natural born enemies?" Brendon asked. "Your father made sure of that."

"You were my father's enemy," Chuck said. "You aren't mine. Or at least, you weren't."

"Because you know you can't win?," Brendon asked, self assurance back in place.

"Because this so-called rivalry didn't start until a month ago," Chuck answered. "And I wonder why that is. Maybe you are more experienced or well presented in the business world. But when it comes to her I will win. Every time. You can count on that. Ask the last six suitors that tried to encroach on my territory. You are going to lose."

The _her_ in this context was very clear.

"And here I just thought you were some stalker who was convinced you had something with her," Brendon said coldly.

"She didn't tell you about us," Chuck smirked. "Did she? How could she? You're attempting to court her which would seriously set back your progress if you knew she had a habit of sneaking around with me behind her boyfriends' backs."

"Good thing I'm not her boyfriend, then," Brendon responded tersely and Chuck couldn't help but feel a wave of relief that he had something on the older man.

"And you won't be," Chuck said. "I won't have you turning her into the other woman."

"Then I suppose I won't tell you about what happened in my office today," Brendon said and Chuck wished he hadn't thought so quickly.

"She wouldn't," Chuck said through gritted teeth, wondering if their games really were getting to be too much.

"I guess you don't know her as well as you thought," Brendon said tauntingly, making Chuck very aware of how much height the man had on him.

"You won't touch her," Chuck said threateningly.

"Even if I were inclined to make that promise," Brendon said, "it wouldn't matter. Because I can tell you she couldn't keep her hands off of me in my office today."

Chuck knew Cooper was just abusing his power of position at this point and it was all he could do to just reign in his all encompassing rage.

"How's the endeavor in LA going, by the way?" Brendon asked sneeringly. "I hope you weren't thinking of buying this hotel out to cover your tracks. You can't outbid me. How do you plan to win?"

Chuck knew he was at a disadvantage and he couldn't help but wonder if Cooper had come for the sole purpose of humiliating him.

"That's what I thought," Brendon sighed. "Why don't you just retreat quietly and save yourself the indignity of losing."

"This isn't over," Chuck promised.

"No," Brendon answered. "It's really not. If anyone can attest to that, it's Blair."

Finally her name was spoken aloud and Chuck knew that his opponent was right. For tonight.

There would be no beating him in this medium. But as he walked away, he couldn't help but feel optimistic. Every man had a human weakness and like every other mortal man, that weakness was Blair. It might be the only thing that united the two businessmen. Whether she wanted to or not, Blair would help him defeat the monster.

Chuck opened the door of his limo without any assistance from Arthur, knowing the one thing that was his only comfort.

Cooper may have won the battle. But he wasn't going to win the war.

...

The destruction of Chuck Bass had been easy. Only a mere teenager who was lusting after a woman highly above his station and was more than he could handle. That was why she was leaving him in the dust. The destruction of Chuck Bass had been easy.

That didn't mean that Brendon liked it. Of course he relished in the way that the nouveau riche boy crumpled under the least bit of stress. He was not cut out for the industry. He was weak and soft, and in the end, there was no possible way that he could win. Because Chuck was weak and Brendon was strong. That was the matter of physics and that was the way that things were.

But there was something that Chuck Bass had that he wasn't counting on. He understood that there had to be some sort of history between the two of them. He just didn't think it was like that. He didn't think that Blair was Chuck's crusade. He was sure that Chuck was just another one of those teenagers who considered the amount of lays you had was some sort of honor. He didn't think it was like that.

He didn't think that Chuck meant anything to Blair. Blair was sweet and proper. Being with someone esteemed and dangerous wasn't anything that she had done before. He wasn't sure what it was about her that intrigued him, but he liked it. He liked the proper society girl and the banter underneath. He didn't think that this was just something that she did. He didn't think that she let herself be seduced by any Lothario that came along.

But Brendon wasn't like that. He didn't do this either. He didn't come on to any good-looking intern that looked his way. And he was sure it wasn't that she was unattainable and that she had a consistency of rebuffing him.

Blair Waldorf wasn't interested by Chuck Bass's advances. And that was that.

At the sound of a sharp rap on the door, Brendon put down his vodka tonic on the wet bar of the suite he had bought out for the weekend. He was sure that no one knew he was here. Those who did knew not to disturb him. He was on a job. He had a deal to close. And yet someone was visiting him. He was sure he had put down that wretched mutt at least for now. But if Bass was at his door, he would just do it again.

And be glad to do it.

Brendon Cooper opened the door of the room to see the last person he had ever expected to see, despite the fact that he had requested her.

"Hi," Blair Waldorf said, hesitating in his doorway like the most sinfully tempting angel he had ever seen.

"I'm supposed to give you these papers," she said, holding up a folder. But Brendon's eyes were trained on hers instead of the folder, the invitation clear as he stepped aside.

Pausing uncertainly at the doorway, he could see the doubt that played out in her eyes. And for a moment, he believed that she would walk away.

But then Blair Waldorf stepped inside the suite, her fingertips brushing his as he closed the door behind them.

No.

Blair Waldorf was definitely not interested by Chuck Bass's advances.

* * *

tbc


	5. Newark Hotel

**AN: Thank you for your lovely reviews, and apologies for the long wait! Also, remember that this is, and will always be, a CB story. Brendon is a blip on the radar, much like everyone else, only with slightly more impact than others. Nevertheless, CB are endgame.

* * *

**

The sun hit her eyelids, and for a moment, Blair could pretend. She could pretend that she was lying in her own bed, its pale blue covers pulled over her petite frame. But a sound next to her, an arm wrapped around her waist, and the hot breath on her ear told her otherwise.

The full force of what she had done hit her like a ton of bricks, and she drew in a sharp breath as she attempted to slip quietly from under the covers. It appeared that even at five am, Brendon was a sound sleeper, his breaths still even as she tiptoed around the room, picking up various articles of clothing.

Unlike with Chuck, who had never let her sneak out in the mornings, Blair had retrieved her garments and was dressed in a matter of minutes. Standing by the door, her eyes caught a folder, the very one she had held the night before. Remembering the document she had looked over the night before, while she had been wrestling with her decision, Blair quickly pulled the page out and set it on top.

He would see it. That much she knew.

...

It wasn't that he did this. Brendon Cooper wasn't some thirty year-old predator who enjoyed seducing his interns and secretaries. Flirting he did, sleeping with them he did not. Melanie had been proof of that-If anything, her advances had disgusted him. He was married, and though Blair Waldorf had proven to be an enigma, he hadn't set out from the beginning to sleep with her. It was wrong.

But when he had woken up to an empty bed, the lingering scent of lavender in the air, Brendon Cooper realized that he didn't care.

He just wanted Blair Waldorf.

...

"Blair."

She cringed at the sound of Melanie's singsong voice, her back stiffening as she turned to face the simpering brunette.

"Liam wants to see you in Mr. Cooper's office," Melanie said with a saccharinely sweet smile, her eyes sweeping over the box at Blair's feet. Pressing her ruby lips into a thin, rigid smile, Blair nodded her head as she brushed past the shorter brunette, whose curls were in a white headband-the very same one Blair had worn a few days ago. Sniffing haughtily, Blair turned her back on the girl, smirking at the thought of Melanie copying her.

The smirk fell away as she reached Brendon's office, memories of that night coming back to her. Her hand closed around the silver doorknob, cold against her fingertips as she told herself she would never have to come back.

This was all just another unfortunate chapter in her life. Like NYU. It could be easily forgotten, easily erased.

"Ah, Blair," Liam said, turning towards her with a smile. Standing by Brendon's desk, he was re-arranging stacks of paper. The same desk Blair had been-"I hear you've resigned."

"It's just an internship," Blair reminded him through gritted teeth. She did not want to explain her reasoning, though many had asked her that day. "Not some highly sought-after job."

"But it's a highly sought-after internship," Liam said persuasively, as if attempting to get her to change her mind once more. "One you see all too willing to give up."

"Yes, well. Certain circumstances have convinced me that I would be better off to leave Cooper Enterprises." Blair spat out, her eyes blazing as Liam continued to eye her with an understanding smile. But from the wicked glint in his eyes, Blair knew that he had heard the rumors as well.

"Nevertheless, Brendon has requested you perform one final task as an intern. You do want a stunning letter of recommendation, do you not?"

Blair was tempted to reply that she was a Waldorf, and therefore would have no trouble getting another internship and countless letters of recommendation. However, she knew that one wrong move and Cooper Enterprises could spoil her future easily. They were simply that big of a corporation.

"Fine," she ground out in frustration. "What do I have to do?"

"Remember the hotel you dropped the documents off at?" Liam asked innocently. "Mr. Cooper's got a meeting in a half hour. He's asked that you attend this meeting. And he's also told me he's not letting you resign till you've talked to him."

Eyeing the assistant with ferocity, Blair gave one curt nod, though her anger was more directed at Brendon than his assistant. "Anything else?"

"No," Liam said. "But Blair, think about what you're doing here. You've got an amazing opportunity in the palm of your hands-and it would be such a waste to let it go."

Grimacing slightly, Blair allowed one small smile before turning on her heel. She knew that Liam was trying to help her-but he wasn't the one about to fall into the arms of a married man. Although...if the rumors were true...Blair shook her head to rid herself of the errant thought, focusing once more on the task at hand.

"What did Liam want?" came Melanie's grating voice, and Blair felt her self-control slipping from her fingers.

"I'm to attend a meeting with Mr. Cooper," she replied calmly, though she had to work to keep her mask of perfection in place. "If you'll excuse me, I must be on my way."

Brushing past a surprised Melanie, Blair allowed herself one small smile of victory as she slung her bag over her shoulder.

...

Chuck Bass sat in his limo, leafing through pictures his PI had sent over to him not ten minutes ago. His harried assistant had thrust the brown envelope at him and rushed off, attempting to manage the calls coming through his Bluetooth.

The sickness made his head swim and he knew that he had never seen anything more revolting. Not at a graduation party where Blair Waldorf had "said uncle" or a wink from a best friend at a Debutante Ball. Because now there was no denying it. The timestamp on the pictures told him that at five in the morning, the girl he had known since birth had run out of the hotel in the same clothes she had worn the previous night. There were other pictures too, pictures of her entering the hotel near eleven pm, a folder clutched in her dainty hand.

There was no denying it.

And sitting outside the same hotel, he had another sickening revelation as the same girl walked briskly up the stairs of the same hotel that just hours before she had vacated.

His stomach threatening to revolt, Chuck checked the time on his watch and decided that being early to the meeting was the best course of action.

But as he walked down the stately hallways, listening to the click-clack of her heels against the marble, the pictures left in his limo returned to assault his subconscious.

Pausing, Chuck attempted to collect himself once more, to forget about what could have happened between them in a hotel late at night. I'm Chuck Bass, he repeated to himself, and by the time he threw the doors of the conference room open, his self-assured demeanor had returned.

It was a jarring experience. He had seen them together before. In a controlled environment, of course, but there was just something too wildly intimate about this now that he couldn't bear. They were standing in the conference room together as the two of their hands brushed together at the transference of a document.

And that was the moment that Chuck Bass legitimately lost it.

It was a small consolation that Blair's clothes were now freshly pressed, and not the outfit that she had worn out earlier that morning. But she was still standing there with the one person that she shouldn't be beside, and he still felt the flames of all consuming rage lick furiously at his insides.

He could hear the sound of his own loafers echo around his ears, if only dimly because Cooper's eyes had flitted to his with condescending amusement.

"Bass."

"Cooper."

Blair's eyes refused to meet his and he was sure that he saw something there that resembled guilt. It was an unwanted emotion, but Chuck could recognize it better than anyone. Because Blair was still Blair. And not even sleeping with a knock-off boss would change that.

Her body was angled away from him and he knew that she considered herself not a part of the antagonistic "conversation." Well, he would make her part of it.

"Hey, Blair," he addressed her silkily, aware of Cooper's tense eyes on them. Blair deigned looking at him for only a second to confirm that she had actually heard him. "Missed you last night."

This time her eyes actually had met him in a sea of confusion along with suspicion marked with anger. She knew Chuck Bass. And her Chuck Bass was always up to no good.

"Excuse me?" she asked delicately.

"Last night," Chuck reiterated. "That's usually when we have our most memorable moments together."

"I don't know if you've had a bout of amnesia," Blair answered coolly, "but there's nothing between us, save for a tentative friendship."

"Oh, I remember that," Chuck answered. "What usually follows that is you breaking up with your boyfriend and many wild excursions in the backseat of my limo."

He was pleased by Cooper's tense stance at this information and Chuck decided the time for social niceties had long since past.

"And by excursions," Chuck informed Cooper with the same condescension as he was greeted with, "I mean after performing a strip tease in my burlesque club, she threw herself at me in the back of my limo, along with the key to her chastity belt."

Seething through barely restrained fury, Blair turned angrily towards Brendon's expression of shock.

"Could you excuse us?" she bit out, and he nodded in acquiescence. Throwing one last pointed glare at Chuck, he walked out of the conference room.

"What do you think you're doing?" she spat out, wheeling to face Chuck. His face was the picture of utter fury, his shoulders clenched as he regarded her.

"Me?" he retorted. "What about you? Sleeping with some Wall Street trash who also happens to be my biggest rival? What kind of game are you playing here?"

The word game hung in the air between them, though they both knew that the current one in play had higher stakes than they'd ever experienced.

"It's not a game," she told him, her voice deadly. "And I don't know when you decided to make it one. Perhaps when you brought along your little French whore?"

"I told you that was a mistake. You were the only-"

"Please," she rolled her eyes. "We both know what went on between you and Eva behind closed doors. According to Gossip Girl-"

"Eva is in the past," he enunciated. "She never meant anything to me-at least nothing compared to you. Don't you see Blair? It's always been you. We're inevitable."

"It was," she relented. "When you finally sent that French stick packing, and became Chuck Bass once more, I thought we had a chance. I thought that maybe I could finally forgive you."

The fury in his eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by an almost indescribable hope that seemed to soften his glare.

"You-thought..." he faltered slightly, completely out of character for Chuck Bass.

"Yes," she sneered. "I did think that. But you've gone too far Chuck."

At her words, the fury seemed to reignite in his eyes, his expression growing dark once more. "I went too far? I'm not the one sleeping with my married boss, Blair."

The glared at each other, for what seemed to be an infinitesimal of time, Chuck's eyes daring-begging-her to contradict him.

Blair leaned closer, a little something like melancholy lighting her eyes.

"So what if I am?" she asked softly.

...

She was sitting too close to him.

Too close.

Chuck ground his teeth, clenching his fist around his pen as Mr. Newark rambled on.

"...both have merit, but your proposal Mr. Bass, is enticing in the least."

"Thank you," Chuck said smoothly, making sure to slip in the slightest of smirks Brendon's way.

But Brendon wasn't watching them, his eyes trained on Blair as she whispered something in his ear.

Chuck felt his chest constrict as Blair's fingers brushed Brendon's arm, and it took all his willpower to stay on his side of the table.

Blair pulled back, her eyes hard as Brendon cleared his throat, turning to Newark.

"Mr. Newark," he began easily. "As I have mentioned earlier before, I do believe that my proposal trumps Mr. Bass'. With all due respect, Mr. Bass," he said in a tone of absolute belittlement. "Your recent handling of the LA situation leaves much to be desired. I do believe myself more capable of handling this hotel, and of course, Mr. Newark, we would do our best to keep you on the board."

"As stated before, gentlemen, I would like to remain on the board."

"Mr. Newark" Chuck cut in easily, his eyes flashing as he glanced over at a smirking Brendon. "Keeping you on the board would be difficult, to say the least. I hope you realize the complications it could cause."

"It is my hotel, no matter who owns it." Mr. Newark reminded him, condescension clear in his voice.

"And we at Cooper Enterprises honor that," Blair jumped in quickly. "We believe in integrity and maintaining an image. Mr. Newark, your hotel would be a perfect fit into our assemblage of hotels around the world. There is diversity at Cooper Enterprises-and each hotel is in its own kind. Unlike with Bass Industries, your hotel will not be sullied by Cooper Enterprises' mistakes, should there be any. It will remain your hotel, but we will supply the funding, so to speak."

Chuck couldn't help the slightly proud smile that graced his features-because he had always known Blair could hold her own in a boardroom.

He just never expected that she'd be against him.

...

"We've been negotiating for over an hour," Mr. Newark said, taking another swig of his water. "Mr. Bass, I'm afraid your position has been looking less and less favorable."

Chuck frowned, knowing that he was slipping. Slipping because Blair had easily thrown him off his game-and as much as he hated to admit it, his inexperience had been alarmingly glaring.

"Mr. Newark," Brendon said firmly. "I am prepared to offer you your asking price, plus ten percent and a confirmed position on the board."

Chuck scrambled to fill the empty space with his counter-offer, but for once in his life, his wit had failed him.

...

"Congratulations," Blair said dryly, picking up her purse and slinging it over her shoulder. Rifling through its contents, she pulled a sheet and thrust it into Brendon's hands.

"It's my resignation letter. I thought it best to give to you in person, to avoid any unnecessary confusion."

And she began to brush past him, wondering at what she had just done-and whether it was the right thing to do.

She had inadvertently brought Chuck Bass down from his high. His young-on-top-of-the-world-CEO high on which he had been since regaining control of Bass Industries.

"Blair," Brendon said.

And she stopped. She didn't know why, didn't understand why, but she stopped and turned to face Brendon once more.

"What happened in there...was incredible."

"Thank you," Blair said stiffly. "But I'm still resigning."

"You can't-"

"I can," Blair spat out. "And I will. What happened between us was wrong. And I can't let it happen again."

"No," Brendon shook his head. "What happened in there was pure genius Blair. I truly believe that you have a future ahead at Cooper Industries. And I would be loath to take that away from you. I couldn't help but admire your-"

"I want nothing more to do with you, or Cooper Industries." Blair said venomously, her eyes flashing. "What happened last night, and what I did in that board room was a mistake. I didn't mean to-"

"To bring down my rival?" Brendon finished. "Well, for that alone, I should thank you Blair. That'll knock Bass off his game for a few months or so."

"This isn't about Chuck!" Blair said, frustrated because it was entirely about Chuck.

"Then what is it about?" Brendon asked, moving closer. Blair's skin started to prickle, and she could feel the hairs on the back of her neck stiffen as Acqua di Gio enveloped her entirely.

"You and I," Blair countered evenly. "It's about you and I because what happened was a mistake."

Shaking his head at her repeated words, Brendon only moved closer, until there was barely any space left between them.

"You and I," he enunciated, "could be amazing together. I know you wanted it too. When you were in my hotel room, screaming out my name-"

Blair bit her lip, the guilt eating away at her as she remembered her immediate afterthought the previous night. Leave it to the Basstard to creep into her subconscious when she was in another man's bed.

"-and I'm going out on a limb here, and I don't know what we're doing but..."

Blair didn't know what she had done, sleeping with a married man the night before.

Blair also didn't know what she had done by aiding Brendon's quest to purchase the hotel.

But leaning forward, her eyes meeting his, Blair knew exactly what she was doing.

She was kissing Brendon Cooper, to hell with Chuck Bass and Marina Cooper.

...

Chuck Bass prided himself on being an island to himself. He was indifferent, apathetic, and most of all, had a facade that would not break. No one could crack him.

Eric van der Woodsen, however, had a different experience. He took in his brother's unwonted loose tie and the few buttons of his shirt that had been undone to reveal part of his chest and didn't have to ask. He didn't have to ask why Chuck's abode smelled of scotch and the product in his hair was mussed. These displays of uncoordinated attire were the results of two simple words:

Blair Waldorf.

Eric didn't have to ask. Chuck could be cold and distant but if there was one thing that always reached to his soul, it was one girl that had a nasty hold on him. In all the right ways.

Eric sighed as he walked into the penthouse to see Chuck slumped over the bar. It should have been fortunate that there seemed to be no alcohol around but that only meant that Chuck had drained his stash.

And quite possibly moved to controlled substances.

"The meeting didn't go that well, I take it," Eric inferred, sitting beside the dark older man. Chuck barely had to move his head to compose features that betrayed nothing but disdain.

"There are no words," Chuck answered.

"There were bound to be some mishaps," Eric concluded rationally. "You are the youngest CEO in this industry. Not everyone can be open to your... eccentricities."

"Thank you, little brother," Chuck said in his term of endearment. "But there are literally no words."

"Did something else happen?" Eric pressed, but knowing the real answer.

"You mean did Blair come in off of her inane internship and once again ruin my life?" Chuck sneered. "Why would you think that?"

"Because it's all over Gossip Girl," Eric said with as much nonchalance as he could muster. To his older brother's credit, he didn't betray much surprise or even the slightest annoyance at this news. It was to be expected but as always the ever observant little brother he was, Eric knew there was always something lying beneath the surface.

"So Blair came in and ruined your chances for another hotel owner because you hurt her," Eric shrugged. "You can't say that this is the first time. You know it's like foreplay between the two of you anyway."

"As I keep being reminded," Chuck replied. "But it's different this time."

"No matter what she says, you know how she operates," Eric responded. "She'll get a guy to make you jealous. She'll act repulsed by you. She'll set out to destroy you. But you know it's just a sign of her never-waning affection. If she really didn't care about you anymore, she just wouldn't bother."

"It's different this time," Chuck said with slow evaluation, "because she's not using him to make me jealous. Because she actually wants him."

"Who?" Eric asked. "I didn't hear that she had a new boyfriend."

"I wouldn't call him that," Chuck said, knowing that even though outing her to their society was a viable option, he could never do it. He remembered. The first time they had been together, he had learned his lesson. Humiliation and the destruction of her reputation was not a way to win her affection. Even though Eric was right. Scheming was the way that they showed each other their favor.

"Then what's the problem?"

"I wouldn't be worried if they were actually dating," Chuck said. "This is worse. This is..."

"You," Eric said in realization.

"Excuse me?" Chuck asked, his eyes still slightly glazed from his exploits.

"He's you, isn't he?" Eric asked. "Right down to the paisley tie."

Only someone such as Eric could have come up with something downright logical. That was the real reason of Chuck's animosity towards this person. Not his father's rival but the fact that Chuck hated anyone who resembled him.

Save for Blair.

He loathed Carter Baizen, who drank scotch neat and manipulated his way into the beds of countless debutantes.

His own feral uncle who was dirty and repugnant had the Bass blood running through his veins and a talent for destruction.

And it was suddenly becoming clear that this was just what Blair did in attempt to stave of her impending self-destruction. But it only added to the downward spiral. Men who were dangerous and slick caught her attention. They were the only ones who could ever have a chance in hell at keeping up with her.

And they distracted her like no other.

"That's why you really don't like him."

"And that is the exact reason why I'm going to end him," Chuck said, sitting up straight. Eric was quiet, feeling the repercussions of him bringing this to his brother's attention.

"Is that different from any other week?" Eric questioned.

"This is different," Chuck said. "This is war. This is Black-Ops-Under-the-Radar-No-Holds-Barring-Complete-Destruction. They aren't going to implode on their own this time. They're going to need a little push."

"You sound worried," Eric stated.

"Not at all," Chuck said. "Because this time, I have the upper hand."

He felt the outline of his phone in his pocket, rising a little unsteadily to his feet.

"You never told me who this person is," Eric noted.

"Soon," Chuck announced, "it won't even matter."

It was only in the privacy of his own room did he take out his phone again, where the pictures of that day had been saved by his own hand. Where the nauseating photographic evidence documented the intolerable and inappropriate relationship of Blair Cornelia Waldorf and Chuck Bass' Enemy Number One. He must be a masochist, he mused, as he flipped through the pictures, a scowl of contempt gracing his features. He alighted upon a photo, staring at it in thought, knowing it would be useful later on.

He tucked his phone back into his pocket, the image burned into the back of his mind as he strode over to his desk, the one of Blair and Cooper in a passionate liplock, the one image that made his stomach turn.

The one where Brendon Cooper's identity was completely apparent.

But hers wasn't.

...

"Blair?"

Melanie was standing behind her, fuming as Blair smiled beatifically in return. Melanie had not welcomed Blair's return to the office in the least. The brunette was red-faced, her hands clenched as she was forced to talk to Blair.

"Yes?" she asked, looking up innocently.

"Mr. Cooper wants to see you in his office."

And the jealousy that was so evident in her actions had boiled over, coloring her every expression and every word.

Standing on slightly shaky legs, Blair straightened her skirt and strode off in the direction of Brendon's office.

It had been five days since her return. Five days of sidelong glances over business contracts and stolen kisses behind closed doors. And though they hadn't slept together since that night, she didn't know where they stood-and a small part of her didn't want to know.

Blair Waldorf wasn't quite sure how this story was going to end up. And there was no future between her and Brendon. Only a present that she couldn't quite define.

"Mr. Cooper?" she inquired, stepping inside. Liam gave her the smallest of smiles, and left with a nod to Brendon, whose eyes were on Blair.

"Blair," he said, once the door had closed behind Liam.

Smirking, Blair sat in front of his desk, crossing her legs daintily as Brendon crossed the expanse of space between them.

Leaning down, he kissed her, gently at first, his hand weaving its way through her hair and pulling her towards him.

"Wait-" Blair said, pulling away. "I have to finish a few balance sheets within the hour. I can't do this right now."

Groaning, Brendon pulled away, a smirk on his face. "Well, despite that, I didn't call you in here just for that."

"Then what did you call me in here for?" Blair returned easily, her hand somehow finding its way under his.

"Well," he murmured, tracing circles over her palm with his thumb. "We're going to a conference in Boston this week. Thursday till Saturday. And I do think I'd need your expertise in this."

"Saturday?" Blair frowned slightly, and Brendon frowned slightly in return.

"Why? Do you have any other plans?" And Blair could swear she heard a note of jealousy in his voice.

"Nothing that can't be easily broken," Blair said, her smile back in place. In truth, she did have plans for Saturday night. Plans that involved Bass Industries, a charity donation, a gala dinner, and would most likely culminate in Chuck and her fighting once more. "Did you say we were leaving on Thursday?"

"I'll send a car," Brendon promised, leaning in to kiss her once more.

"I've got to go," Blair reminded him, pulling away.

"By the way," Brendon called out as Blair reached for the doorknob. "Your suite at the hotel is right next door to mine."

Blair smirked, slightly uneasy as she laughed, her hand gripping the doorknob.

"And it's quite possible they are adjoining rooms."

* * *

tbc


End file.
